Because when they see me
They see fragments of a flower
Yet find my veins to be flowering with weeds

The flowers pulled from under my skirt ~ you placed there only to fool ~ your audience into thinking that I shed beauty

He always has them on hand, and always gets more as gifts, and he never knows what flavor he is eating. He describes the flavor of his Jelly Beans as their color, meaning a cherry bean tastes like “red” and a pear bean tastes like “green.” Much like potato chips, and pretty much everything else, it is nearly impossible to get Opa to share his Jelly Beans with you. 

I want to eat fast and messy as an ode to the years I spent not eating at all ~ and I want to tell the men who told me I ate like a lady then to get absolutely fucked ~ I want to make art with the hair that I pull from my drain ~ and I want to dance under a moon with those who bleed with me

The urge to cover my breasts slowly waned as the water loosened my body, my legs untucked and floating leisurely ahead of me. No eyes, no comparisons, no expectations of shame over our bodies. We women just shared our solitude protected by thick wooden fences and the grey snowy sky.

In time, Dundalk fell quiet, destitute, all life existed elsewhere. The fog intensifies over town, obscuring light from the sun, allowing darkness to ease its way into the lives of the families

At that next appointment, there was no heartbeat and I hated that I was not attuned enough to my body, my baby, to know the moment it had stopped for sure.